Tall Oaks Don’t Tell Tales

I haven’t mentioned Annie in a long, long time. You can get a feel for her here, here, and here.

Annie and I were together for several years. One weekend we attended the wedding of a young man who worked in my office, and with whom I played on a sports team. I was his mentor in business, doing my very best to teach and smooth over some very rough edges. But on the sports field, he taught me the subtleties and intricacies, as he had played this game professionally. So we had become reasonably close as mentor and student, switching roles in and out of the office. As well, Annie had become close friends with his fiancée.

The wedding was on a brilliant July Saturday afternoon, with both the ceremony and the reception at a classy suburban golf and country club. We were all dressed to the nines. I had on my newest, classy, top of the line suit, and if I do say so myself … I looked … ahem … pretty damn good. Definitely rakish. With my longish greying locks, think Richard Gere on a bad hair day. And Annie? With a figure hugging new blue dress, long slit showing off her perfectly rounded 36Cs, and her firm ass, she was every man’s dream date.

The bride was beautiful, the groom dashing. The self prepared vows they swore were tasteful and contemporary. As the bridal party left for the photograph session, we all headed for the bar, which had been set up on a nearby patio. The booze was flowing and nobody seemed to notice the long absent wedding party, as the photographer must have been taking his time.

At this point let me remind you again that Annie was gorgeous. And very much a sexual vixen. Which kind of fit pretty well with the way I was handling myself in those years. It may not come as a big surprise to you either, that after 3 or 4 drinks, Annie’s dress with the deeply plunging neckline and her soft sexual banter in my ear in her mother tongue were starting to get a rise in a particular area of my anatomy. She giggled and taunted me mercilessly once she could see my situation. Something needed to be done! An immediate remedy was required!

Off in the distance to the right of where we were, I could see a small copse of trees. I wondered if they could possibly shield us from being discovered if we were able to partake in some naughtiness. Here at this exclusive Country Club. In public view. Dressed as we were.  I could see the trees were all alone, a bit apart, as no fairway passed close to them.

“Let’s go for a walk, Beautiful,” I said as I grabbed Annie’s hand and headed toward the trees.

We walked about 50 yards. The trees were a dozen tall, stately oaks. Though the branches didn’t start until far off the ground, the trunks of the trees were exceptionally large and I was pretty sure would act as a secure screen from an unwelcome peering.

We found our spot, 3 trees in and to the left. On the away side from the clubhouse.

This wasn’t a time for romance.  This wasn’t a time for sweet talking. There was no time!

Annie quickly pulled down her tights and lifted her dress. I unzipped.

It was pure “Slam! Bam! Thank you M’am!”

Or maybe “I demur! You made me purr! Thank you, Sir!”

One and done.

We quickly cleaned up after the deed was finished. Certain the tall oaks would keep our secret. Only they knew what had just happened.

And now so do you, faithful readers. I hope you will keep my secret, too.

After all, I may want to join the Country Club one day.

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